


Pinocchio's Christmas

by snarkysweetness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Class Differences, Enchanted Forest AU, Established Relationship, F/M, FTL AU, Fairytale Land AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkysweetness/pseuds/snarkysweetness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pinocchio gets a Christmas surprise from his Princess; An Enchanted Forest AU in which the curse was never enacted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pinocchio's Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Emma and Pinocchio FTL AU and it won’t be the last. This is a little gift to all of you shippers. As always, thanks to the wife for looking this over. Happy Holidays, Booth Babes!

Pinocchio’s skilled hands diligently sanded a chunk of mahogany. He hovered over his work, eying it carefully to ensure his work to be free of even the slightest flaw. The light in the cluttered workroom had dimmed with dusk quickly approaching. It was past time to light the oil lamps but his focus was on fashioning the final piece of his Princess’ gift. It needed to be impeccable; something worthy of her.

So completely caught up in his task he failed to notice the door of the shop creak open followed by the patter of footsteps. He brushed his palm over the surface and decided it wasn’t smooth enough. He cursed to himself and tossed the paper aside, reaching for a fresh piece. If he could get the pieces of the wardrobe stained tonight he’d be on track to get it finished by Christmas.

He knelt down to be eye-level with his work as two slim arms slid around his waist. He jerked away in surprise and turned to find two beautiful emerald eyes watching him with amusement.

“Princess, you startled me.”

“My apologies, artisan, but I found myself enchanted while watching you. So much so it escaped me to announce myself,” she taunted. She trailed her fingers over the table as she circled it, examining his work. “You do possess quite a talent,” she mused, pausing mid-step to examine a stack of his plans.

She glanced up from the parchment with a coy smile.

“Is this my present?” She asked, picking up his drawings.

”Give me those.” Pinocchio rushed to her side and yanked the papers out of her hand before she could examine them further. He shoved them underneath a soon-to-be door, wanting her to be surprised.

Emma chuckled and wrapped her arms around his waist before pulling him towards her.

“Well then, may I at least have a kiss?” She pouted as she ran her hands over his coat. She took hold of his lapel and used it to pull his head down to hers.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he protested, knowing her father would have his head if they were caught alone. Of course, the Princess didn’t care about rules because she leaned up on her toes to brush her lips over his.

“I don’t see anyone around to notice.” She pressed her mouth to his. “And you’re not stopping me.” Another kiss. “And I’m the Princess so that means you have to do as I say.” This time she kissed him properly, with her arms around his neck and her tongue darting past his lips to dance with his own.

He groaned and kissed her back, his calloused hands moving to her lower back. She knew full well he was incapable of saying ‘no’ to her and she took no issue in manipulating that to her advantage. He deepened the kiss and pressed her against the work table, carefully fingering the strings of her corset. Her dexterous fingers moved to untie his breeches and he pulled away from her, always needing to be the voice of reason.

“Not here…I mean, we can’t, Emma.”

With a firm set of her jaw she watched him as she reached back to untie her corset.

“Society deeming it improper has never stopped us before so I don’t see why it should now,” she challenged. Flames danced in her eyes and he withheld a sigh. His Princess would do anything to defy convention, but this time she wasn’t going to win. She’d be angry and refuse to speak to him for days but he was putting his foot down for once.

“The wedding is only weeks away, why do you insist on tempting fate? It’s a miracle we’ve yet to be found out, Emma, and I know I don’t need to remind you that one of these days there will be evidence of our little indiscretions.” She scoffed but they both knew that even with every precaution taken a child would eventually be born and he’d much rather it happen once they were wed.

Convincing her father to allow their betrothal had been damn near impossible. The King wanted his daughter to marry a prince or a duke or even a knight; anyone but her childhood playmate. Her mother had been the one to make him see reason in the end. After all, he was secretly a Shepherd posing as a noble, so why should he demand a royal match for his daughter?

Pinocchio would forever be grateful to Snow White’s interference and her fondness for him. Just the thought of Emma marrying someone else made him rage; he wasn’t sure what he would have done had it happened. Luckily, he wouldn’t have to find out, as long as they could make it down the alter without a scandal blowing their engagement apart.

Sex before marriage was unacceptable and he’d tried to resist her, refusing her advances for months before she finally broke him. They’d been flirting with disaster for far too long and he was going to put a stop to it. The Christmas Feast would lead into the festivities of their wedding; balls, dinners, etc. Another few weeks wouldn’t kill her.

Emma approached him, her bottom lip quivering. She moved her hands to his face and stared at him with a sad look in her eyes. She was trying to use her feminine wiles on him and it wouldn’t work this time. He was finally going to make an honest woman of her and he wasn’t going to ruin it.

“Sorry, my love, but the answer is ‘no’.” He took her hands and kissed them before walking away from her. She would throw a fit; expect him to change his mind, and when he didn’t storm off. He didn’t like her being angry with him but he had a lot of work to do.

But she surprised him. He turned to find her watching him a smile on her lips.

“I’m impressed; there may be a future king in you after all.”

They both knew he wanted nothing to do with the crown and the title would be a formality. She was the true heir to the throne and he’d stand by her side proudly as she ruled the kingdom. He opened his mouth to protest but she turned on her heel and left him.

He watched her in awe, pleased that even after eighteen years she could still surprise him.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“A wardrobe, really? And here I was hoping for jewels.”

He didn’t move to greet her or glance in her direction. He finished fastening a bolt in the door and examined his work before stepping back to press his lips to the top of her head.

“We both know you wouldn’t wear them. And what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be helping your mother decorate the tree in the main hall?” He wasn’t pleased that she was here to see her gift before he was ready to present her with it but he also wasn’t surprised. Emma couldn’t help herself.

She stepped towards the large wardrobe and smiled after a moment. They stood in the room that was to be theirs after the wedding and it was filled with furniture that he’d made just for her. The bed had been her birthday gift. The tables last year’s Christmas gift. And the chairs had been just because presents. He and his father had been building things for her family since before her birth and he wasn’t going to change that traditional just because they were to be man and wife.

“Do you approve, my darling?”

She shrugged and looked towards him with a small frown.

“This reminds me of the one in my nursery.”

“As it should, I built that one as well,” he reminded her, stepping forward with a rag in his hand. He began polishing the wardrobe as she watched him curiously.

“And what else did you help your father build?”

He sighed, wondering where this was going.

“Everything, love. Your crib, your rocking horse, the chairs, and…I don’t remember, Emma. Why?”

“Well,” she began, wrapping her hand around his wrist. She waited until his full attention was on her before continuing. “I was just thinking that all of the time you spent working on this wardrobe would have been better served building a crib.”

Pinocchio furrowed his brows and resumed his work.

“Why would I do that, Princess? There’s still one in your old nursery.” She’d been moved to a larger room as a toddler and the nursery had remained for the siblings her parents planned on giving her. When the children never came her parents left the nursery as it was for the day when Emma had her own children. When the time came Pinocchio would have a few less things to worry about; he’d just need to clean things up, make sure everything was still sturdy and in working order, and worry about everything else not related to the child’s room.

As he finished polishing the wood while lost in his thoughts, Emma’s eyes never left his face. He set down his materials and turned to find her watching him expectantly.

“What?”

She gave him a small nod, as if expecting him to say something else. It wasn’t like her to be this patient with him. Whatever he was missing she would have spit it out by now. He racked his brain, trying to remember their conversation, but he had no idea what he was supposed to be catching on to.

“Is it broken?” He asked, suddenly remembering the crib, not sure why did they needed to discuss this now. Besides, why had she been in there to begin with? They could deal with the issue of cribs and bassinets and toys when the time was appropriate. He just wanted to get through the wedding. Once she was officially his wife then he would be more than happy to entertain the idea of children. In fact, he planned to make love to her at least three times a day until she got sick of him and hopefully a child would result from it.

“No, I just desire a new one,” she admitted.

“Why?”

She gave him a small ‘look’, as if expecting him to read her mind. There were times when he knew exactly what was going on in that beautiful head of hers but this was not one of those times.

“Emma, I don’t…” He shrugged, at a complete loss.

She placed a hand over her middle and the manner in which she gently held it in place ignited a spark in his mind. He blinked in shock, unable to speak. After a very long moment he dumbly stepped towards her and covered her hand with his own.

“Princess?”

“Darling?”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she watched him with amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Truly?”

“Truly what, love? You’re quite pale; perhaps you should lie down while I fetch the physician?”

Emma moved to leave him but he gripped her hand, willing her to stay with him. He ran his hand over her belly and licked his lips until he found his voice.

“We’re having a child?”

“Aye, I was wondering how long it would take you catch on, lover,” she confirmed with a grin.

“But-“

“We’re getting married in a week, no one will ever know.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him towards her. She pressed her lips to his and he held her close, returning the kiss. As she pulled away she toyed with the ends of his hair. “If anyone asks, you were very efficient on our wedding night.”

“But-“

She pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing him.

“I was a wedding night baby,” she told him with a knowing look.

“OH!” He caught on to that one immediately. Of course, her parents had been married in a secret ceremony long before their official vows were exchanged, but he chose not to argue with her. She was spirited enough without the added threat of pregnancy.

“Are you pleased?”

Pinocchio grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush against him before claiming her lips. He kissed her until she went slack and then scooped her up into his arms.

“What do you think?”

She beamed up at him before kissing him again.

“I’m glad. Merry Christmas, Pinocchio.”

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before kissing her.

“Merry Christmas, Princess,” he whispered against her lips. Leave it to his soon-to-be-wife to trump the weeks he’d spent laboring over her perfect gift with a few simple words; and he wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
